Friendship is Tragic
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The tragedy of the world was that friendship is not the same thing as diplomacy. The tragedy of Queen Twilight was that Equestria was not the world.


**Friendship is Tragic**

There was a little problem when it came to taking over from an alicorn that had ruled Equestria for over 1000 years – it left you with a whole lot of paperwork.

That, Twilight Sparkle reflected, was not only an understatement, but about as nice a thing she could have said. In her chambers, formerly those of Celestia herself, she poured over scrolls and maps. Some of them dated only back weeks, describing the latest going-ons in the kingdoms of lands far east from here. Others dated back centuries, and these were the ones that the former princess of friendship was focusing the most on. Some of them had been written by Celestia. All of them had been signed by Celestia. And after a solid week of pouring through these scrolls, she was beginning to realize that the solution to the dilemma she faced might just be the same solution Celestia had done – kick the rock down the road.

_So this is why you retired then. _Twilight glanced out the window, towards the setting sun. _Couldn't solve the problem you created, so you left me to pick up the pieces._

In fairness, she couldn't be sure of that. Celestia had ruled this land for over 1000 years, and by most measures of history, she'd done a sound job, even if towards the end of her reign, she'd delegated duties to a collection of ponies from a bumpkin town. The Mane Six, as they were now called in the history books. Not a term Twilight had coined herself, but one that her friends had embraced wholeheartedly. Friends that, as Twilight looked to the crystal map in the centre of the chamber, were no longer with her.

"Hey Twilight."

Well, except Spike. For whatever reason, history hadn't counted him among her group, least not in the same way. Maybe "Mane Seven," didn't sound as good, maybe him being a dragon was the key determinant. Still, it didn't matter. He was here, which meant that he was back from the dragon lands.

"Yeah, nice to see you to by the way."

She looked up at him and forced a smile. "Sorry Spike. Lots of things on my mind."

"Yeah? Well, I'll give you something else for it." He plopped down in a chair and clicked his claws. "You won't have any more problems at the border."

Twilight's smile became less forced. "You mean you got the dragons to sign the treaty?"

"Well, yeah…sort of…"

"Sort of?"

"Well, it was more that Ember forced them to do the signing. I was just the one holding it up for them."

"Oh. Great."

"Yeah. And after that, things got really hot between me and Ember, and-"

"Okay Spike, moving on." Twilight walked back over to the map.

"So, you don't want to hear about our lava bath?"

She looked back at him. "Lava bath?"

"Yeah, with all the other dragons that were celebrating." He stared at her for a moment. "What did you think I was talking about?"

"Oh, er…a mud bath."

"Mud bath?"

"Yeah." Her smile became even more forced than it was before. "Like, y'know, boiling mud found in geological areas, and…y'know…"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Great." She returned her gaze to the map, hoping that Spike didn't see her smile turn to a frown.

_Jealous?_

She grit her teeth. No. Not jealous. Not at all. After all, Spike had prevented the dragons from sweeping down southward in fire and fury. He'd solved a problem in the space of a month, whereas Celestia, and now her, couldn't solve a problem that had been brewing for centuries. Glancing at Spike, still leaning back and snacking on some gemstones, she wondered for a moment if he might make a better ruler than her. It would be a practical impossibility of course, but not a literal one. As ruler, she had the right to choose her successor. And as a dragon, Spike had centuries of life ahead of him, whereas one day, she was going to die, and all of her friends, the so-called "Mane Six," would die around the same time as well. Cold comfort knowing that they'd get to enter death's cold embrace together she supposed.

"So, what you looking at?" Spike took to the air and drifted over.

"Nothing," Twilight murmured.

"Doesn't look like nothing. Looks like a map."

She glared at him. "Why _thank you _Spike, your powers of deduction are incredible. Why, I don't think I'd have ever made it this far without you pointing out the obvious to me."

She regretted her words instantly. The words themselves had been bad enough, but seeing the look on his face – that was the dagger that shattered the glacier she'd erected between them.

"Spike, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

He shrugged and drifted back to the chair.

"Spike?"

"Y'know, I sometimes wondered why you gave up the title princess of friendship. Guess I know why now."

"Spike, I gave it up because-"

"I mean, you don't even call yourself princess now. You call yourself…what is it?" He leant back in the chair. Twilight looked at him.

"Asked you a question Twi. What is it you call yourself now?"

After a moment, she murmured, "queen."

"Queen." He tossed some more gemstones into his mouth. "That's a title that hasn't been used for over a millennium, and you use it now. Why?"

"It's complicated." She returned her gaze to the map.

"Go on, try me. I mean, my powers of deduction are _so _amazing right now."

Twilight's ear pricked. Her words might have cut through Spike like a dagger, but his were pricking against her skin like a thousand needles. Nevertheless, she persisted.

"Celestia ruled alongside Luna once," she said. "They called themselves princesses. And even after banishing Luna to the moon for a thousand years and more, she kept the title." She looked at Spike. "Do you know why?"

He shrugged.

"I don't either. But I think part of it was down to humility. There could never be two queens of Equestria, but there could be two princesses ruling in tandem. So when Celestia ruled alone, I think she kept the title as a mark of respect for her sister. A way of checking herself in a sense."

Spike slowly got up and walked over. A silence lingered between the two of them for awhile, as he drummed his claws against the edge of the table. "Alright," he said eventually. "You said part of that was humility. What was the other part?"

"Responsibility."

"Responsawhatsits?"

Twilight knew that Spike understood what the word meant, but nevertheless, she laid it out. "Responsibility. Obligation. Queen in all but name, but as soon as you took the name, more's expected of you. A lot more." She glanced over at the dozens of scrolls she'd stuffed into some shelves – matters almost as urgent as the dilemma facing her now. "You ever notice how so many girls want to be princess rather than queen?" Twilight asked. "They get to be in pretty dresses, and eat pretty cakes, and wear pretty wings, but all of that comes without the responsibility of ruling." She returned her gaze back to the map. "That's why I took this title Spike, no matter what the pundits say. Queen. Because I have to remind myself that I'm ruling millions of subjects in the largest country on this planet, and that I can only delegate so much to my friends."

She looked at Spike, who looked away from her. "What?" she asked.

"Um, Twilight?" he asked. "You ever think you might be delegating too much?"

"Excuse me?"

"Like, you've got your friends all over Equestria. You hardly ever get together now. I mean, in the old days-"

"These aren't the old days Spike, these are the new ones. The _glorious reign _of Queen Twilight Sparkle, First of Her Name, appointed Heir to the Country of Equestria by Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Cadence, formerly of the title of Princess of Friendship, and-"

"Why former?"

Twilight blinked.

"Why former?" Spike asked.

"Simple." She tapped the map. "Because of stuff like this."

Spike hovered above the map and looked at Twilight. "Um…geography robbed you of a title?"

She tapped her hoof on one of the countries shown. "This!"

"Oh. Saddle Arabia?"

"That," Twilight said. She tapped a country bordering it. "And this. Iranch."

Spike just hovered there, his eyes blank. Twilight sighed – she couldn't blame him she supposed. She'd gone her entire life without understanding just how complicated diplomacy could be. When she'd taken the position, when she'd burst into song as she used to do, she thought that everything would be fine, that the magic of friendship would succeed, and all that stuff. She'd never understood then that "friendship" and "diplomacy" were two very separate things.

"This is Saddle Arabia," Twilight said. "Our _friends_, as you might call them." She looked at Spike. "Do you know why?"

"Because…we're nice people?"

"Because Saddle Arabia has some of the largest deposits of gemstones in the world. Because with those gemstones, we get to keep the lights on. Decorate fancy palaces. Make fancy dresses. And all we have to do is look the other way from their treatment of mares."

"What kind of treatment?"

"Bad treatment Spike. Like, mares can't leave home without a colt. They can't even leave the country without their mate's permission, and if they're found…" She moved on, not wanting to think about such details. She traced her hoof southward, to Yemare, a country that bordered Omule. "And that's not even getting into what's going on there."

"What kind of stuff?"

She didn't answer. She'd seen it for herself. Over ten years of saving Equestria from everything from changelings to the Storm King, from Discord to Tirek, and none of that had come close to the death and despair she'd seen there. Made all the worse that Celestia had supplied steel forged in Equestria itself to the Saddle Arabians.

"And then there's Iranch," Twilight said. "Old rival of Saddle Arabia. They've been in a cold war with the Saddles for centuries and we've never even really appreciated that." She frowned. "Or, _I _never appreciated that. I've been so busy spreading the magic of friendship in Equestria that I've never really looked that far beyond the borders."

"That isn't fair," Spike said. "I mean, there were the griffons for instance."

"I wasn't there for that Spike," Twilight said. "And that aside…" She took a breath. "Iranch is stockpiling gems. Maybe they're using them for power, maybe they're cultivating the magic in them to build mana bombs. Saddle Arabia wants them stopped. And, maybe that's for the best. Celestia established a 'friendship' with them, and they're our allies, but…"

"But?"

"But part of the reason for our animosity with Iranch is because Celestia used her friendship with Hoofmeni to get to the throne, and it was only within the last century that his dynasty was ended. So, Iranch is enemies with Saddle Arabia, and antagonistic towards Equestria, and while their rule is nearly as repressive as the Saddle Arabians, I can't deny that part of that is due to Celestia playing friendship favourites and…gah!" She slumped down, her hooves rubbing her eyes. "Friendship, friendship, friendship. Sun and moon, I'm still thinking about friendship!"

"Um, Twilight?" Spike put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you think you're overanalysing?"

She shorted. "Overanalysing? Spike, if anything, I'm underanalysing! There's centuries worth of history to digest here, and all I've done up to this point is solve friendship problems, and…" She fell silent. "I can't do this," she whispered.

"Twilight?"

"I can't do this," she repeated. "If I help Saddle Arabia, I'm a hypocrite. If I make overtures to Iranch, I piss off Saddle Arabia. But if I don't make overtures, then this part of the world gets even more unstable. And all the while, ponies are dying in Yemare. I…" She sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. "I can't do this." She began to trot off.

"Twilight?"

"I can't do this Spike." She slumped down in the chair he'd once resided in. "Celestia's left this mess for me, and I can't even be angry from it because I've benefitted from that mess however indirectly. I can't call myself the princess of friendship because I've seen what this kind of friendship has cost. And I don't know if I can continue that friendship, or alter that friendship, or end that friendship, without making things even worse."

Spike smirked. "Could just send the Royal Guard in. Clear everything up yourself."

She glared at him.

"Or, you could, I dunno, visit? Show them your powers?"

"I visit Saddle Arabia, that's a tacit endorsement," Twilight murmured. "I visit Iranch, that's a sign of weakness that makes the Saddles suspicious."

"Oh."

"And besides, what would I do? Sing a song about sharing and caring? That I have to find a way? That a rainbow will remind us about loyalty, and kindness, and honesty?" She sighed. "Those days are gone Spike. Long gone."

"I guess, but…hey, we're still in Canterlot, right? Just the two of us? I mean, that's something."

Twilight smiled. She knew Spike was trying to cheer her up, but it was having the opposite effect. She'd started off in Canterlot. Then she'd made friends. She'd seen the breadth of her land, spreading the magic of friendship and all that. And yet, she'd been a child. She was over thirty years old now, and in the scope of Celestia's legacy, still a child. She figured she'd always be a child. Just because she'd come to learn that friendship couldn't solve everything like magic, that didn't mean she wasn't wrapped in the warm, comforting cloak of ignorance.

"Look, you'll find a solution," Spike said. "I mean, hey, it's you."

"Maybe," Twilight murmured.

"I mean, I could write to Celestia. Like, I don't know where she is, but due to her magic, I blow a parchment to her, and it'll find its way to her wherever she is."

"Oh, _great_," Twilight sneered. She stood up. "Dear Princess Celestia – I have learnt today that your rule was not as benign as you made it out to be. That you've left me a mess that I have no idea how to clean up. That you've…Spike, what are you doing?"

He was holding a quill and parchment. "What?" he asked.

"You're not writing it down are you?"

"Um…maybe?"

A beam of light shot from Twilight's horn, incinerating the parchment. Spike let out a yelp.

"Just go, Spike."

"Right," he murmured. "So, you don't want advice from Celestia, you don't want advice from me, you won't even call your friends back to find help, and in the meantime, you're left pouring over a map looking for a solution."

"Yes, I am," Twilight said. "Because someone has to."

"And that someone is you," Spike said.

Twilight sighed. "It has to be Spike. Me, or someone even better at this." She looked at him. "You have a suggestion?"

He remained silent.

"Just go, Spike," she said. She walked back to the table. "Just…leave me alone."

She didn't look at him as he slowly walked out. As he lingered at the door before closing it. Her eyes were focused on the map before her, darting only to look at the pile of scrolls nearby. Darting, and closing, as she dreamed of happier times. Simpler times. Times when friendship was limited to just a few individuals, and a bit of fun, song, and magic, could solve everything.

"I have to find a way," she whispered. "To make this all okay."

The song caught in her throat, its words like ashes upon her tongue.

Indeed, she had to do that.

But she had no idea how.


End file.
